Soul Eater: Hello Darkness
by Dark Philosopher 1775
Summary: "My music was of macabre, a dark emptiness that played through the room like death on the dance floor/ it made me think that something was wrong with me. No! I learned that's just who I was and nobody would change that." Even if you've given up on changing yourself, someone else can always change you. A little drabble for for Soma week of 2014 day 3 "Insanity" SoulxMaka
1. My new friend

**S.E.**

"Hello Darkness…~"

I

"…My Old Friend…

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Hello, this is my very first fic here. This is for SoMa week of 2014 day 3 "Insanity". Special thanks to Bitter November for urging me to quite hiding in my corner and write this, and to Poisoned Scarlet for her wonderful advice for drabbles and oneshots. This wasn't what I originally planned on writing. I was hoping to have a more in depth story with a serial killer psychologist who messes with people's heads, but I decided if I really wanted finish this on time then I should keep it simple. I honestly am still not sure what this is exactly about, but it just kinda came out of me. I hope this qualifies enough insanity for SoMa week, but I don't think that was the true purpose behind the mask. So, sorry if you're not getting a Hannibal Lecter style SoulxMaka thriller like I intended, but this will have to do for now. I think "Hello Darkness" will be the title of a drabble series I will create consisting the insanity and Black Blood involvement in Soul and Maka's relationship. Enough talking, let's get this done.

GOING LOUD

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"_I've always felt it. I didn't know what else to call it. I didn't know if I liked it… or I was just used to it, but it consumed me never the less. The empty space just gnawing on the inside of my skull like a parasite, never leaving when all I wanted was to be left alone so nobody could hear my music! It was never something put on my shoulders, I did this to myself. I felt all I was best at was hiding in his shadow. I could never compare to him; his music was of beautiful, full of life and light. My music was of macabre, a dark emptiness that played through the room like death on the dance floor. The disappointed face of my mother and cross visage of my father made me think that something was wrong with me. No! I learned that's just who I was and nobody would change that. _

_ As much as I'd hate to say it though... I was wrong…" _

-A little insight on Soul's mindset-

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"Hey, Soul, the party's in there." Maka crept out of the crowded room to the balcony where she found her partner hiding… again. Soul slouched slothfully over the edge with his head raised and slightly tilted at the side as he held a staring contest with the laughing moon; the moon was winning, (does that damn thing even blink!?) He was in all black save for the spotless white button up shirt that complemented his bleach white mop of hair. It no longer drooped down over his eyes as much as it used to, but strands of hair still spiked out in rebellion, refusing to be tamed. Maka thought about having him attempt to comb it down for the party, but decided against it. For one reason, she knew he would only complain and she really wasn't in the mood to fight with him before the celebration. Second was because she secretly liked it that way, but that's not something she was keen on revealing to her weapon. All in all, Soul was _looking… _er, what's an appropriate description, she wondered. Despite her large vocabulary, Maka could only think of words that were unsuitable to call your best friend/weapon.

_He looked __good__ in that suit_! Maka sighed at her poor state of mind right now. _He looked good in anything though, _but maybe that's just her_. DAMNIT, SHUT!_ This isn't good, he hasn't said a word and her brain is already on a collision course.

Soul took his eyes of the moon to finally look at her. Blood red eyes followed her mile long legs of creamy skin that ended where the hem of her silky red dress began at the top of her knees. It was the same thing she wore all those years ago on the night the kishin Asura was revived. It was plain and simple, and completely Maka.

Soul eyed the dress that hugged the curve of her hips; confirming to him that, no, the dress didn't necessarily fit her the way it used to_… this time it's much bett-__**aw **__shit! _She didn't catch him staring, did she? _No Maka-Chops? _Okay, he's still cool.

"Come on, Maka, you know I'm not into this kinda stuff." Maka only nodded as if she knew the answer before walking up to lean her back against the edge of the balcony. She's wearing her hair down tonight. Soul can't decide if he likes her better that way or with pigtails. Sure, those adorable pigtails make her look horribly cute, but having her hair down is rare and it makes her, dare he say, even more drop dead gorgeous!

_Alright, alright, __**stop**__. Don't think about her hair anymore_. Soul finally notices that his meister is still by his side and the smallest of smiles threaten to creep up his face. He knows what she's trying to do.

"Hey, Maka, you don't need to stay here or anything for me. Talk to Tsubaki and the twins, and don't let me hold you back." Maka frowned. Soul was right on the money, and then he realized that her frown would look even cuter if she were in pigtails. _Yep, pigtails and angry Maka worked beautifully together_-_**stop thinking about her hair you idiot!**_

"Who says I'm out here for you? Maybe I just wanted some fresh air?" she defended. Soul only hummed cynically and looked back into the distance. Maka always wondered what went on in that head of his. Sure, people saw Soul as lazy, disinterested, and uncaring. In reality however, Soul was a deep thinker but closed minded. He was brilliant Maka thought, but he simply didn't want the spotlight on him. For all she knew he could have figured out the meaning of life years ago and shrugged it off like it was no big deal. "Hey, Soul?"

"hm?" Soul was surprised at the break in the silence. Usually during times like these they would stay quiet and simply enjoy each other's company. Maka bit her lip, unsure how to phrase her question. What was she trying to say? She had never been very social herself, so she understood Soul's withdrawal to social events, but she thought that he was so closed because of his 'madness problems'. It isn't fair to have ones deepest fears and insecurities all bundled into a single entity/alter ego forced to live in your soul. Yes, Soul never was a fancy party person, but she believed he wouldn't have been as detached as he is now if it wasn't for the Black Blood. "Yeah, I'm listening." Soul reinforced, telling her that he's waiting for her.

Maka cleared her throat, still unsure what she's asking. "Um, Soul… have you… is it… do you think you'd be a different person if it wasn't for your insanity?" Well, Soul wasn't expecting that, but the cogs in his head slowly creaked together as he pieces together where this is coming from. He saw her looking at his chest where his scar is. _So that's it_! Of course she still blamed herself for his injury that led to the black blood in his body.

This was an interesting question though; how different would he be? Well, as far as his life as a weapon goes, he probably wouldn't be around anymore from the few instances where it came in handy. He doesn't think that's what she's asking however. Sure, he was a twisted guy and personal, Black Blood aside. When they were first dealing with the issue though, he did distance himself from Maka out fear for her safety. Even if they worked it out in the end, he never said much about it to other people and hoped they wouldn't notice a change in his attitude. Perhaps that only reinforced his fear of interacting with others.

"Yeah, I would be a different person for the better had I never been infected," He watched her body tense suddenly. "but, there's no way in hell I'd be a better off than I am now if I never met you." They made eye contact, and Soul could see the internal struggle she was having in accepting this. "Hey, Maka…" he used his thumb to brush a loose strand of hair from her eyes. "Even though we've gone through hell on earth on more than one occasion, meeting you was the best thing that's ever happened to me." there was no lie in his words, every syllable was tenderly wrapped in sincerity. She brought her hand up to grab his and pulled it away from her face. He retracted his hand to pull away but she held on tight and made no intention of letting go. He remembers the day they first met. All those years ago, he wouldn't have changed a single thing. It began with a song.

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He had never planned on it. That first day of school he dreaded suffocated him in the large rooms full of weapons finding meisters. Like always during social events, Soul slipped away from the crowd and walked sulking down the large halls. He didn't know what he was looking for, and he doubted anyone would be partners with him. If his own family rejected him how could a complete stranger? Before he knew what was happening, he found himself standing outside a door with the label 'Music Room'. Soul's heart thumped with either desire or disgust, but it didn't matter. He took a deep sigh and creaked the door open, partially thankful and bitterly displeased that it was unlocked. He cautiously peeked in, nobody in sight. Gathering his courage, he slowly walked into the room. There was more space than needed, but there was a soothing calm to the room when the lights were off and nobody's eyes on him.

The first thing that caught his eye, inevitably, was the grand piano in center. His heart sped up again and his fingers trembled. '_No, no, no, no, no, no_.' his eyes searched the room frantically to make sure nobody was there. With a deep inhale and slowing his heart's pace, he relented. '_Maybe just one song_.'

He walked up to the instrument and sat in the bench. "Hello again you bastard…" he mumbled to his long time rival/obsession. His fingers trembled over the black and white keys that seemed to long his touch.

C#m~

Nothing happened. No disappointing eyes to shame him, no one to judge him for his music. He played the C-scale up and down to reacquaint his digits with the feel. There was a warm electric spark with every tap of his fingers. He began to play more and more tunes. Just as he was about to take off into going pit deep in his own demonic world, he felt something strange.

He knew that feeling, the feeling of another conscious to judge him. He could almost feel the eyes on him burning holes in the back of his skull. His back stiffened and his fingers went limp. He slightly turned his head to reveal half of his face. His albino white hair shining in the window light and his sharp teeth formed his usual smirk when garnet red eyes met forest green. She was smiling at him. She had ash-like blond hair tied into pigtails like a field of wheat bound together for harvest season.

He probably should have stood up and walked away, but something was keeping him there, starring into those eyes that didn't seem deterred by his characteristics. 'She's probably just stupid'.

"Can you play for me?" She asked with hope in her eyes. She didn't know what she was asking. If she knew his music she would have taken off without a word, but that still was going to happen anyway. Soul would have said no in most cases, but there was a numbing internal feeling that seemed to suppress any doubts inside him.

His head was fully facing her now. The girls eyes widened when she saw him crack an even bigger grin, revealing rows of shark like teeth, but she didn't seem scared. '_fine then, I'll just have to show her_.' He faced the piano and cast one last glance at the innocent green eyes. "This is the type of person I am." And then his fingers crashed into the keys, sending a shock wave of delight down his spine as his demonic tune filled the room with such grace and macabre. His hands danced up and down the ivory keys, releasing the endless flow of emotions he held bottled up. He didn't care if this one person was watching him; this is who he was, and no one will ever change that.

For the very first time perhaps, Soul felt complete. He didn't know why he was so confident now all of a sudden. The more he poured the sound of his soul out through the piano, the stronger he felt. For some odd reason, it pained him to think that the girl had already run off horrified. He has grown use to it however. Finally wrapping up, he slowed down to a lingering ghostly tone, finishing off with special chord he invented himself that was similar to the Dm scale.

Although he didn't admit it to himself, deep down there was a bitter sadness that was wishing that just once, that person had stayed and heard him through the end.

*clap, clap, clap*

'What?' Soul spun around in his chair. 'It can't be!' she was still there! Clapping… for him… no nervous or worried look in her eyes, her lips were morphed into a … a smile…?

"That was great." She laughed, and it didn't sound fake; it was genuine laughter- real smiling. "I didn't understand it," she confessed shyly, "but I really liked it."

She didn't understand this music, she didn't understand this strange boy in front of her, but she wanted to find out. His face was expressionless for a few seconds. She took this opportunity to mentally gawk at his features. His hair was unusually frost white with no dye indications. She saw that his teeth were sharp- real sharp! What caught her attention were his deep crimson eyes. She could get lost in the depths of the seemingly glowing orbs. There was something about them though. At first glance they looked bored, uninterested, but there was something more… deep down in those eyes dwelled a glimpse into his soul that she couldn't quite grasp just yet.

He either hadn't noticed how carefully she was inspecting him, or he simply didn't care. Soul was used to people starring at him; it wouldn't surprise him if she saw him as some sort of freak. But, she said that she liked his music! That meant something, didn't it? Her eyes told no lies. He had never seen that shade of green before. "My names Maka Albern".

'_Maka, huh_.' She told him her name, does that mean she's… she's socializing with him. Hold, on! He knows this, this is the part where he's supposed to say his name right? Oh, wait, she just asked him what his name was, should he answer? No, just walk away! Nothing to see here!

"Soul," although he held a confident, almost cocky lopsided smirk, the musician was mentally kicking himself for disobeying his mind. "Soul Ev-…" he stopped halfway for a second. He was no longer an Evens, he promised himself that when he left home for this academy. He would no longer live in the shadow of his older brother, or be held down by the anger from his father, and not even guilt driven by the disappointment in his mothers eyes. Soul was his own person now, he was a weapon. "Eater," He finished, remembering the middle name that his family gave him once his teeth came out. "I'm Soul Eater."

"_Soul_…" she repeated as if tasting the sound of it on her tongue. "That's… a cool name."

'_Cool_'. That word, there was something about it that brought a tingling feeling to his gut. He never thought he'd become very popular at a school like Shibusin, but if this strange girl said she liked his music, maybe something like being cool isn't too farfetched. He can turn himself into a scythe for crying out loud! Perhaps nothings impossible!

Without his knowledge, Maka had extended her arm to offer a gloved hand as he discovered this revelation. He hadn't noticed this until she broke the long but tacit silence, "So," His starring off into the distance came to a halt when he looked at her instead of past her. "Partners?"

He could have said no. He could have lied and said he already had a partner. He could have said he wasn't going to have a meister until next year, and she would have understood. A weapon partnering with a meister was a lifeline commitment. The sacrifice was equivalent to that of a romantic relationship. They had to trust each other with lives and must be willing to open themselves up completely when resonating their souls together for combat. Soul had every reason to say no.

"Sure." His hand wrapped around hers and shook. It was nothing special. It was a simple handshake, but it marked a point in their lives when their souls made a mutual agreement between weapon and technician. They will later come to terms that this was always meant to be. Her grigori soul will make her his angel to bring a new light to his life and help him overcome his fears. In return, he will be her demon, twisted but caring. His red eyes always open to watch over her, keep her safe and will always be there for her in the best and worst of times…

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… that's how it is and always will be. Maybe his insanity was even less of a problem then he thought. If it wasn't for insanity, he never would have realized how much he needed this angel by his side. Their fingers intertwined as Maka leaned on him while they both gazed at the stars. Nothing else needed to be said. They didn't need to be in resonance to have the tacit understanding for what they other were saying. It began with a song, and it might as well end in one, but that won't be happening anytime soon. As far as Soul's concerned, the song is still playing, and it always will be

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**(A/N) **There you have it! I'm so happy I finally finished something! I have written so much and I actually completed this even if it does suck! Let me know if you think I should continue with this drabble. Please review (its free!), I could really use the confidence boost and I really want to know where I'm lacking.

Respectfully, The Philosopher


	2. Chapter 2: Scythe and the Pendulum

The first thing that woke her up was the music. Eerily familiar tunes played slowly and softly into her ears, coaxing her mind to stay calm and asleep. She trusted the music, knew it, why should she fight it? Her eyes were too heavy to open and she couldn't feel her limbs. The only thing that existed right now was that sweet sound slowly increasing its pace. She could almost feel the music vibrating and pulsing down her spine. Slowly, ever so slowly, senses crawled their way back to young woman like a prodigal son returning home. Callused fingertips met the smooth touch of cherry wood; fingernails delicately scraped the flat, smooth surface. Aching muscles lay still in rebellion, pretending not to hear their instincts to move, a throng of voices throbbing in the young warriors head, telling her to let the world melt away and drown in the sound forever.

Of course, the meister was stubborn, and in that legion of voices she heard the one sole voice, that familiar, comforting but urgent voice, telling her there was a reason she woke up. Listening to the solitary voice of defiance that spoke so bold in her soul as much as her mind felt like the right thing to do. With twitching fingers, heavy lidded eyelids slowly blinked themselves awake.

The room was dimly lit in candle light. She was facing the ceiling, vision still blurry as sleep took its time to fade. The music continued, louder now, more chaotic and fast paced. Her fingers lightly touched the wood once again, and it seemed to purr itself to life in sync with the music. In fact, the meister felt her whole body vibrate with the sensation of the music. Without needing to see, she knew from the sound what she was lying on top of.

This was not the first thing the skilled individual noticed, death grips cut into her skin around her wrist; she writhed around but was impeded from any movement as her arms and legs were restrained. Maka Albarn was tied to a piano.

With this revelation came confusion and fear, lining up in her conscious like a firing squad, shooting down the false sense of security she was foolishly eased into. Panic set in as Maka bucked her tied limbs against the restraints. The music played faster and faster, madness flowing from every note in the barbaric rhythm. Turning her head, she caught sight of who was playing the music. Maka's heart stopped.

Hunched over the black and white keys was her own partner, Soul, or at least what used to be Soul. His eyes were wide with a maddening excitement and an even wider smile. She screamed and cursed and writhed but it was futile, her partner was gone, replaced by a puppet, too entranced to know she existed. It was when she tried looking around for anything she could use. That's when she saws it-a scythe blade- much like Soul, swinging above her head. It sluggishly swung back and forth, the large glinting terror descending maddeningly slow.

Howling in rage, fear, confusion, Maka's blood boiled with an animal instinct that told her to survive no matter the cost. The bladed menace's descent increased with the music, getting closer, moving right for her chest. It was angled oddly however; instead of being diagonal or vertical, it swayed across her in a way that would cut the meister from her left shoulder down to her right hip.

She wouldn't let this happen. She wasn't going to die, not here, not like this, not when she didn't know if she could still save Soul. Angling the back of her right hand face down against the flat surface of the piano, Maka pushed hard against the wood, bruising the tissue and cracking the delicate bone. It hurt, but as the pendulum descended even closer, only three feet above her chest, the music painfully loud, and with the adrenaline rushing through her, Maka made the final push and broke her wrist.

Nearly blacking out from the pain, Maka blinked away tears. The swing scythe was only a foot from her chest; she had to move quickly. Unfortunately, although her right hand was free, having a broken wrist made untying the restraints on her left hand next to impossible. With death looming closer, Maka began gnawing furiously at the rope. It hurt her gums, but not as much as it was going to hurt should she not escape. The knot was nearly undone. So close... just a little more..

A hand grabbed her right shoulder and forced her back down.

Soul's strong hands gripped her throat. She looked into his red eyes but they were dead; Her Soul Perception felt no spark of life behind his eyes.

"Soul…" she finally gasped. "Soul..!" no response, the pendulum was only inches from her chest, she could feel the kinetic energy from its movements as it made its final swing. Just as she predicted, the blade began at her shoulder and ended at her waist. unfortunately, it wasn't deep enough to kill her yet. Maka screamed as her torso was torn open, the momentum of the blade moving her with it slightly. Hot blood gushed from her wound. "SOUL!" She wailed as the pendulum came back to finish the job.

"MAKA!"

Silence enveloped him and his empty bedroom, save for his own severe panting. Darkness laid a heavy blanket over his eyes. Clutching his chest, Soul swung his legs over the edge of his sweat soaked bed. The scar on his chest wouldn't stop throbbing.

"Soul!? Are you ok?" Maka barged into his room, her visage full of worry. Standing up, Soul walked up to her and grabbed his meister by the shoulders, needing to make certain she was there for real.

"I'm fine," he sighed in relief when he finalized he wasn't still asleep, "just a bad dream."

The weapon embraced her, resting his chin above her head. Soul didn't want to seem clingy, but he just couldn't let her go, not after that. He needed to make sure she was ok.

"The black blood again," the technician told him rather then asked, "it's getting worse." The Scythe only nodded. They didn't know what would become of this, how they would handle it, but this was something they would confront it together. Soul knew that the madness would overcome him eventually, but with Maka by his side, his sanity was worth fighting for, if only just so he could enjoy moments like these for a little while longer.


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